Letters from the Field
by Mama Skree
Summary: Kymberli Rzepka and Julian Bashir vow to rebuild their relationship during Rzepka's six-month deployment to the Neutral Zone. When Starfleet stops subspace transmissions between the Neutral Zone and the Alpha Quadrant, they resort to writing letters. Can they rebuild their bond through letters across the quadrant, or will their relationship self-destruct? Set in late 2384.
1. Chapter 1

"Evasive maneuvers! Route auxiliary power to the forward shields!"

Through the enormous view screen overlooking the bridge of the _USS Aventine_, a Breen battle cruiser swooped through the debris field again, trying to make another shot against the Federation Vesta-class starship. Among two other Breen battle cruisers glided a Romulan warbird, also attacking the Federation ships. They practically appeared out of nowhere and attacked without warning on the Federation patrol in the Neutral Zone.

"Helm, come about. New heading – 475… Mark… 21… attack pattern Delta. Tactical, target their weapons. Get them off our backs."

Captain Ezri Dax calmly but firmly asserted herself from her stance on her bridge. The solid deck below her tired feet shuddered violently again as she pitched her tiny body to maintain her posture at her command station. Red lights aggressively illuminated and dimmed rhythmically overhead, alerting the staff of a red alert situation. The other dim lights around her loaned a serious, attack-ready atmosphere. Amid the situation, however, the crew seemed to maintain the same demeanor. She secretly hoped, like she always did in battle situations, that her crew didn't pick up on her apprehension and blinding self-doubt.

Before _Aventine_ relocated behind the Breen ship, however, another shot made contact with the outer hull, hurling _Aventine_ strong to the port side. Many officers were knocked of their feet, some pitching violently into the bulkheads and to the floor. A few didn't get up.

"Status on the engines!" Dax called out as she regained her composure. She didn't turn to look at the chief engineer at her station.

"Warp drive offline, impulse engines at seventy five percent, thrusters undamaged sir," Commander Kymberli Rzepka replied quickly. The Betazoid interim Chief Engineer stood at her post on the bridge, communicating constantly back to engineering. The commander's voice relayed more nervousness to the already shaken captain. Dax knew running wasn't an option now.

"Tactical, get a lock on the Breen's weapons systems. Fire torpedoes on my mark. Helm, set a course for heading 329 mark 234, one quarter impulse. Get us about a 500 meters from the field," Dax commanded, letting a small smile come over her face, lowering herself into her soft leather command chair. "Time to play dirty."

_Aventine_ turned with the grace of a crane and moved into position. The minute the starship stopped, Dax blurted out: "Fire torpedoes! Full spread!"

The glimmering torpedoes cut through space like angry rockets. Once they impacted the Breen ship, Dax knew it was disabled. The image of the ship appeared on a small console nestled in the armrest in her chair. She eyed the battlefield before looking back at the damaged Breen ship. The scene before her eyes harshly reminded her of the few moments before Deep Space Nine's destruction nearly three months ago. _Aventine_ had assisted the station evacuate during the precious moments before the destruction and although most of the senior staff had made it off the station in time, nearly a thousand Starfleet officers and civilians died in the Typhon Pact ambush on DS9.

A well of anger balled up in Dax's gut. Her wits told her, begged her, to remain diplomatic, just to disable the enemy ships and report the situation to the proper authorities. Her heart, however, told her something completely different. Her heart wanted revenge.

"Come about and target the aft Romulan warbird, attack pattern Alpha. Full spread torpedoes on their engines at will," Dax commanded. She stood from her chair and moved closer to the view screen. "You won't get us again, Pact," she muttered.

The three remaining Breen ships swirled around the four Federation ships, contemplating their prey. The _Rutledge_ sustained heavy damage and slowly retreated back toward Federation space. The neutral zone transformed to a war zone before Dax's doubting eyes, and the Breen had basically declared war on the Federation. The Typhon Pact slid into a situation Ezri Dax felt sure they didn't want to be in.

Another shot impacted _Aventine's_ hull, rocking the ship violently again moments before another spread of torpedoes launched from the starship. The attack immediately breeched the offending Romulan ship and destroyed it.

"Damage report!" Dax yelled.

"Shields down to sixty percent. Minor damage reported from decks 23 and 24." Commander Samaritan Bowers, Dax's first officer and long-time friend, replied quickly, monitoring several stations at one time.

The firefight continued for another twenty minutes, with _Aventine_ working the perimeter of the battle and two other Federation ships working the inner ring of the battlefield. By the time the fighting stopped, _Aventine, Rutledge, Vespa, Enterprise _and _Tacumsa_ all rested quietly in the debris field, contemplating their next moves.

Dax sat back in her chair listening to the damage reports coming in. She breathed deep and tried to calm her shaking hands and pounding heart. Her own personal console showed several readings depicting the locations of the enemy ships moving off. Once the reports silenced, she sat back and breathed a sigh. Her head pounded and hunger twisted her nervous stomach. Her hand gently rubbed one temple, as if she could will the headache away.

"Send a subspace message out to Starbase 23. Let them know we need at least one relief vessel to our location," Dax said quietly. "And let them know we're going to need backup for a few hours while we make repairs."

"Sir," the shrill voice from communications shot back quickly. "All subspace frequencies are being blocked. I can't get a message out."

"What?!" Dax shot back a little too loudly, standing in her place. "Hail the Rutledge."

Captain Benjamin Sisko's face soon appeared on the screen, looking grim. The bridge of the Rutledge was darker than normal and they remained at red alert. "You okay over there, Old Man?"

"We're still in once piece. Do you know why subspace is down, Ben?" Dax replied. She felt comforted knowing her old friend fought on this front line with her. She trusted his judgement and still called on his advice from time to time.

"No, I don't. I haven't heard anything about an outage," Sisko replied. "But it's certainly not very good timing."

Once Sisko's solemn face disappeared from the screen, Dax stood quietly on her bridge for a few moments with her hands on her hips. Two wounded officers had already been moved to sick bay and she needed a few minutes to get her head together.

"I'll be in my ready room," she suddenly announced. "Maintain yellow alert. Get those damage reports to me as soon as you can, Kym. Sam, you have the bridge."


	2. Chapter 2

Commander Samaritan Bowers, _Aventine's_ first officer, nodded as the captain left the bridge, stood from his chair, and placed himself slowly in the command seat toward the center of the room.

Commander Kymberli Rzepka's head also nodded at the Captain before she retreated to her office. The former Deep Space Nine Chief Engineer hadn't been aboard more than two weeks, yet she continually found herself watching battle after battle unfold around her and _Aventine_ nearly every other day. She desperately wanted to go home. Or at least, back to the Bajoran Sector with her friends.

Captain Dax had been in her ready room for about 20 minutes when Commander Bowers turned to look at Rzepka with a glimmer in his eye. "Commander, are you heading in to that ready room soon?"

She turned and looked at him with a crooked glance and deep ebony eyes. "Why?"

Bowers looked away, down at his lap, up at the viewscreen, and around at the other stations. He turned to Rzepka and dropped his grin. "I think you might need to go talk her off the ledge."

"What?!" she replied almost a little too loudly. Rzepka and Bowers had a long time working relationship that went back several years, back to when Bowers worked aboard Deep Space Nine as Tactical officer. With his twenty years in the fleet, his experience sometimes forced Rzepka feel like a child. He was smart. And funny. And sometimes very mean. She always had a good time picking on him. "Why do I always have to be the one to smooth her feathers?!"

"Because you're so darn good at it," he replied quietly. He faced back to the screen with a grin, leaving the argument without another word.

"Fine," Rzepka sighed. She gazed down at her station's panel. One remaining damage report blinked unfulfilled on the screen. "I just need five more minutes to get these reports in."

Once the final report came through to her screen, she quickly compiled them to one PADD, put her thumbprint signature on it, and gathered up all of her courage to walk into the ready room to smooth down the tired, irate captain.

"I'm going in," she announced to the first officer. "Cover me if I don't come out in twenty minutes."

Commander Bowers chuckled along with a few other officers around the bridge. "Aww, you're tougher than that. I'll give you thirty."

Once Commander Rzepka heard the captain's tired voice beckon her to enter the ready room, she drew a deep breath and stepped through the opening doors. The doors whispered closed behind her as she briefly thought about how loud the doors on Deep Space Nine used to be. _Seems like everything reminds me of that place_, she thought to herself. The captain's disdain and frustration seeped into the commander's consciousness. She slowly ambled to the desk and handed over the PADD.

"Damage report, sir."

Dax slowly took the pad, briefly looked over it and set it down on the desk. "How long until the warp drive is back online?"

"Judging from the reports, the containment field is damaged. The actual engine itself is fine. I haven't seen it for myself yet, but four hours maybe?" she questioned herself in her head on how she could get it done sooner, anticipating the captain's next question.

Dax looked up at the engineer with a slight disapproval in her eye. Her short black hair glimmered in the ambient light. Her eyes lacked their normal sparkle. "How about three?"

Rzepka forced the irritation aside because she understood why it needed to be back online sooner. "I can probably make it happen in three, but I'll have to extend Alpha shift."

"That's fine. We need to get back online as soon as we can. We're the only ones out here who can defend the fleet. I'm not sure when Starfleet will respond, with subspace down." Dax replied with a nod.

"I understand," Rzepka replied quickly. "We'll work as quickly as we can."

"I hate this," Dax said, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. She motioned for the commander to have a seat, which she took slowly. "We've only been out here for two weeks and I already hate this."

"I know you do, but I think you're doing a fantastic job. Really." Rzepka softened her voice, sensing the captain's sadness and self-doubt with the situation.

Dax scoffed quietly and regarded her hands. They folded together tightly in her lap, attempting to squeeze away the tension in her body. "Yeah, okay. I swear every time I step on this bridge, I feel like I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like everyone else around me feels like I don't know what I'm doing. Maybe I'm just not meant to be in command."

"Nope," Rzepka replied quickly, letting a tiny grin come over her face as she thought her very brief tour with Starfleet Intelligence. Once she passed the starship bridge test and took her promotion to Commander, she felt like she screwed everything up. She eventually left Intelligence to return back to her first love – engineering. "Pretty sure _I'm_ not meant to be in command, that's why I'm not still there. But you? No, you were meant to do this. You were born to do this."

Dax looked up at her friend with a small grin on her face. "Thanks."

That captain sighed again and stood, stretching her arms and legs and tried to force the fatigue from her limbs. The day, like many others, drudged on forever and Dax wanted nothing more than to turn her ship around to go back to the Bajoran system. She stepped to the replicator and ordered two cups of hot tea and brought them both back to her desk. She sat one down in front of the commander and one in front of her own chair before sitting back down. "I bet you're already dying to go home. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it to be like this."

Rzepka picked up her tea. The heat from the cup warmed her cold fingertips. She pushed back stinging tears at the captain's statement. She found it difficult not to frequently think about _Defiant_ – the starship all of her friends served on and the only piece of her home that lingered - or Starbase 23 – where her boyfriend remained under psychological care for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

"No," she replied. "I don't feel that way. I don't have a home to go back to."

Dax looked up at her friend. She remembered pleading with Starfleet for assigning Rzepka to come aboard to train her new chief engineer for the next six months. Nothing permanent. She felt so thankful that Captain Ro, the commander of Deep Space Nine and _Defiant_, didn't hate her for the way in which Dax "stole" the engineer away from her crew, but the captain felt even more thankful that Rzepka took the assignment.

"I'm sorry," Dax said quietly with a hint of sympathy in her voice. "I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay. It's just… that I haven't served on a starship in a really long time," Rzepka replied equally as quiet. "And even longer since I was out in the Neutral Zone. I'm still adjusting. It's a bit… different."

"If we can keep the Breen off our backs for the next five minutes, I promise, it's going to get better. For both of us."

The captain wondered to herself if she could keep that promise. She desperately hoped she could.


	3. Chapter 3

_My Dear Julian, _

_My disappointment in not having subspace communication lingers, but I guess writing real letters fills the communication challenge between us. I honestly can't think of the last time I wrote an actual letter. Until two minutes ago…. when I started this one. _

_I think for this to work, we should be as open as possible when writing. I know it sounds kind of strange, but if we are honest and open with our communication, then our relationship will end up stronger because of it. It's so easy to hide things in letters. Let's not do that, okay? Also, we should write as often as possible. Every week if we can. _

_I apologize for the broken Federation Standard, if there is such a thing. Apparently the documentation translator I have isn't nearly as effective as a conversational one. I will try to do my best but don't make fun, okay?_

_Anyway, things here are indifferent. It's been a week since I've really had food worth even mentioning and probably longer than that since I've slept through the night. Don't get me wrong, I'm eating and sleeping. Just not very well. Every bump and rock the ship takes wakes me up. Every unfamiliar noise interrupts my sleep. _

_With that being said, I've been a little firca lately. I know we've only been out here for three weeks, but it seems like everyone is edgy. At least, since the attack they are. _

_Really, the only intel we have on the attack is the Breen ships were working together with the Romulans. Once Aventine destroyed two and Enterprise destroyed another, the remaining ships left the area. We're not exactly sure what they were doing, but I'm sure it was nothing good. Since then, we've had to maintain a battle ready status, which is taxing on the command structure. All of my staff are tired and worried, and it's only the third week. Makes me wonder what we'll all be like in five more months. I've finally finished repairing the core containment field damaged in the attack. I was thinking we were going to go back to dry dock there for a while, but luckily, I'm avivi – prochia – you know what I mean… and got the job done. With some help of course. _

_Otherwise, I'm fine. Dax is hosting a Captain's dinner tomorrow night and I'm feeling very guilty about not wanting to go. She and I have been spending so much time together at work lately, I just want to be alone when my shift is over. It's kind of surprising to me, since I usually find comfort with company. I miss my Betazoid Mud Bath holosuite program. I should have recreated it when we were on Betazed a few weeks ago. I didn't even think about it. _

_I hope your last week on Starbase 23 is going well. I've been wondering what kind of progress you've been making. My hope is that you will be able to integrate right back into work smoothly and start putting all of this behind us. I know you're eager to get back to work. _

_I've been thinking about you a lot. I miss you so much. Maybe if I could see your face again, just one time, I would feel better. I'm ready for this tour to be over and it's barely begun. I have disappointed myself with how impatient I've become for the end of this mission. Doesn't sound like I'm a very effective soldier, after all. _

_The hour is late and I'm on Alpha shift in the morning. I'll get this transmission in the communication's packet tomorrow and hopefully you'll get it soon after. _

_I love you, Imzadi. _

_Kym_

Julian Bashir sighed as he read the last words of Kymberli Rzepka's letter. The silence of his quarters aboard Starbase 23 comforted him, but only for a moment. Thoughts of space battles and red alerts flashed in his mind while he tried to imagine what his girlfriend experienced aboard _Aventine_. Prompted by the unpleasant thoughts, his heart pounded in his chest and his stomach knotted. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he willed his heart to slow down. _An advantage to being genetically enhanced,_ he thought. _The ability to control my own vital signs._

He missed her. So much, in fact, he often dreamed about her. Sometimes, her image appeared to him when he closed his eyes during the day. Therapy and solitude filled his medical leave time as he recovered from a recent Stellate Ganglion Block to correct his Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. During his down time, he frequently wandered about the station looking for anything to concentrate on. Sometimes he found time to get into the holodeck and play along to a few unfamiliar spy programs. He reread _A Tale of Two Cities _and spent countless hours staring at the stars through the observation deck's windows.

As bored as Bashir became on the station, he also welcomed the peace. After spending so much time in battle and in stressful situations, the station offered a welcome reprieve.

That is, until he heard from her again. His girlfriend's letter sparked a new kind of worry. He could no longer see her face because Starfleet cut off subspace communications and could only read her words now, using the context clues to decide for himself her attitude and demeanor. The doctor wasn't very good at guessing on such things. He picked up his own PADD and started writing back to her immediately.

_My dear Kym,_

_I felt thrilled to receive your letter, language breaks and all. It reminded me of about all those times when Miles and I had a little too much scotch at Quark's and would see you walk by the door out in the Promenade. Miles always told me you acted too serious, so in order to cheer you up, we relentlessly flagged you down every single time you walked by. Some nights, I spent our entire happy hour wishing we would see you so we could flag you down again. _

_When you started coming into the bar, I thought our heads would explode with childish excitement. I feel the need to apologize for that – we were young and immature and you were fresh off a starship. We couldn't resist. Once you started taking shots with us, basically after we forced you to, I knew you were something special. That might have even been when I thought about asking you out for the first time. I'm not entirely sure why I didn't do it. _

_The reason I thought about that when I read your broken Federation Standard was because you would say things that our universal translators couldn't decipher. I'm pretty sure those words were not ones we cared to hear, because you always seemed angry or irritated at our perceived immaturity when you said them. _

_Strangely, I feel the need to apologize again. _

_With that said, I'm really going to miss thinking about that on my way to work every morning when I walked through the Promenade. I'm going to miss Quark's - almost as much as I miss you and your incoherent swearing right at this very moment. _

_All things considered, I'm doing well. Counseling is also going well and I anticipate transitioning back to full duty soon and without complication. Please don't worry yourself with my progress. I assure you, I'm safe and feeling good. _

_I'm concerned with the Federation's position with the Pact threat. I don't know much about the situation, but from what you've told me and since the Federation shut down any subspace transmissions, I can't help but wonder where we're going from here. I try not to think about it when I just don't have that much information, but it's hard. Especially with you out there in the middle of it. _

_This time next week, I'll be back on Defiant. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to it, but I somehow fear the transition. Perhaps I really fear moving on. Or perhaps, I fear finally accepting what's happened. _

_As for you – you don't need me to tell you how important sleep is. If you're still having trouble, ask Simon for melorazine. You won't get the "fog" in the morning or if you need (or are forced) to wake up early. Try to put 20 more minutes in the gym a day, too. I know sometimes working in a high-energy environment can make it hard to sleep, too. _

_I wish I could be with you right now. _

_I look forward to your next letter. And I really am sorry about forcing you to take all those shots. All in good fun, eh?_

_Julian_


	4. Chapter 4

**_Sorry for the delay, guys. I've been fighting some serious sickness and haven't been able to really sit at a computer for an extended period of time. But I'm better and now I'm back. _**

**_A little background: this read is intended to be an easy, thought provoking piece. I'm intending to build the relationship between Commander Rzepka and Doctor Bashir, but the ending is up to them. I usually can't control what my characters decide to do, only what situations they find themselves in. _**

_**I don't own Paramount. Sadly**__. _

_Dear Julian,_

_Good fun? For who, you two or me? _

_As I learned back at the academy, the term "hazing" more accurately described the actions you and O'Brien engaged yourselves in. Indeed, you should be sorry. _

_You two and your silly antics angered me on several occasions. I never figured out why you laughed so much until I realized your intoxication played a part and now, that my Federation Standard sounded ridiculous. I can't believe I never picked up on it before now. _

_I will get you back one day for that. _

_Regardless, your letter gave me a good laugh and a trip down memory lane. I'll miss those times, too. All of them. Even the ones when I wanted to flarot you and O'Brien over the head. _

_By now, two weeks have passed since Defiant welcomed you back. How are things going? Have you gone back to full time or part time? I know you mentioned easing back into the workflow, but I don't remember elaboration on that. _

_This morning's staff meeting shed some light on the events unfolding around us. I can't really share a lot with you, but I feel even more nervous about our mission. I woke to a battle stations drill at 0200 this morning and I still feel jumpy from it. I don't think I've done one of those since I was at the academy. Luckily, I passed my drill time, but two of my engineers didn't. One was four minutes late and one was a full fifteen minutes late. _

_Speaking of the officer who was fifteen minutes late… and I'll be blunt… he's driving me mad. His accent is so thick, I can hardly understand what he's saying half the time. I don't think it would bother me so much if he didn't relentlessly chatter all the time. He asks so many questions and says rather inappropriate things. He's so young and thinks he knows everything. He honestly thinks he's better than everyone around him. _

_Even worse by my own experiences, he thinks nothing will happen out here. He believes we're perfectly safe. Cocky and eager. _

_He actually reminds me of a young you, especially the first time I met you. Thank the stars you grew out of that. _

_I am counting down the days until this mission ends. We're almost six weeks in now and it feels like an eternity. How is that possible? _

_Four and a half months to go. I already plan to spend my terminal leave on Defiant with you. I couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather be. _

_The hour is late and the melorazine is starting to work, finally. I love you so much. Please stay safe. _

_Kym_

As her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, Commander Rzepka rested her head on the back of the chair and closed her eyes slowly. The eyeballs behind those lids intensely burned with fatigue from the day's events. Staff meetings, equipment failures, paperwork, more staff meetings…. No wonder she couldn't sleep. Her exhaustion seemed like the only thing keeping her going lately.

Thoughts of her _imzadi_ floated effortlessly though her mind. His face appeared almost perfectly, as if she'd just seen much more recently than two months ago. She almost felt his fingertips on her face, as if he was touching her in the way he could be sure she was real. Tangible. Alive.

"…. Kimmie….."

Ebony eyes flashed open the minute she heard her name. Looking around her dark quarters, she sensed no one around her. Her warm purple pajamas hugged her body and she felt so very comfortable, yet her mind raced. She barely moved.

"….Kimmie…. are you there?"

This time she stood from her seat, peering into the bedroom. The full-length sloped windows afforded ambient light from a nearby star system and her shadow dutifully followed her through the living room. She knew she recognized the voice. But… could it really be?

Once in the bedroom door, her breath caught in her throat. Calm and smiling on the edge of her bed sat Julian Bashir.

"Kimmie, come here. I missed you so much."

Her hands trembled at the sound of his eloquent English accent. "Julian, how are you here?" Her voice only appeared as a whisper, her shock prevented anything louder.

"It doesn't matter. I'm here now. God, I missed you so much."

Her feet finally moved. The doctor reached up for her and took her hands. He felt so warm and real, the commander quickly convinced herself he was really there. She pressed her thoughts to him but received nothing back. No emotion. No thoughts. No consciousness.

Perhaps it's the melorazine. _I'm dreadfully tired…_ she thought to herself as she lowered herself into his lap. "Julian," she breathed. "I can't believe you're here."

Rzepka leaned down for a kiss, but Bashir pulled away. "No," he said quietly, looking up into her eyes. "It's a new life."

The commander backed away and crookedly gazed at him. "What?"

"A new life, Kym! It's a new life!" His voice grew louder as the commander stood and stepped back. Julian stood too, gazing at her face. He placed each of his hands on her shoulders. "Do you understand me?"

Rzepka shook her head. "No, I don't understand. What are you saying? What is a new life? _Aventine_? This mission? Your PTSD recovery?"

"No, it's more. It's part of me…. And part of you." The doctor stepped forward again, placing his open palm on her cheek like he always did. His hand felt so warm and real. Rzepka pressed her cheek into his warm skin and closed her eyes. "It's all part of you."

_"Leishman to Commander Rzepka." _

Rzepka's eyes flashed open again. She found herself sitting back on her sofa, head laying back on the headrest. _A dream_. Her encounter had been a dream. She shifted her weight forward and touched her comm badge on the coffee table.

"Rzepka here, go ahead."

_"Commander, I apologize for the interruption. You wished to be informed with all of the uptake valves to the plasma reactors had been replaced. The last one has just been completed, sir." _

"Ah," Rzepka replied to the half-vulcan, half-human engineer. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Excellent work."

_"Thank you, sir. Leishman out." _

Rzepka stood from her sofa and stretched. The disappointment over her dream covered her with sadness. She felt so alone.

As she made her way back to her bedroom, her heart picked up its thumping rhythm, as if it were anticipating Julian Bashir to be sitting in her room again. She slowly touched the light panel beside the door. As the lights dimmed on, her heart sank. He wasn't there. For another four long months, he wouldn't be there.

She hated the Neutral Zone. More than that, she hated this entire deployment, even though she shared the displeasure with her best friend, Ezri Dax. All those days she wished for Dax to be closer, yet she never thought it would be like this. Her thoughts drifted back to her _imzadi_ – a Betazoid's one true love – again as she laid her head down on her pillow. With closed eyes, she imagined him laying next to her and quietly yet begrudgingly drifted off to sleep.


End file.
